


October 1st 1989

by mangohaz



Series: The 70's [5]
Category: Formula 1 RPF, Rush (2013)
Genre: Civil Partnerships, M/M, happy!, wrap up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-26
Updated: 2018-05-26
Packaged: 2019-05-13 20:29:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14755785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mangohaz/pseuds/mangohaz
Summary: Niki's mind in the lead-up to Denmark's enacting their registered partnership law.





	October 1st 1989

**Author's Note:**

> GIRLS, i'm tired as all absolute fuck and to be entirely honest if you're planning on reading this this evening its probs gunna be rather different in the morning so make that decision for yourself cuz like OOF ! These are my absolute grandads and wow, I love them.

Niki hadn’t opened a newspaper for the past 3 weeks, refused to turn on the television, even for the races, just to avoid any flash of the outside world that would make his heart hurt. 

 

The lead up to that weekend had felt deafening but so quiet it was like he was in a world alone. James hadn’t even seemed too worried about what was to happen when Denmark made their decision, all the things that were running round and round Niki’s head, day in day out like whether they’d be allowed into the country after the fact, what would happen to James career, would the Reverend that Marlene knew even agree, what would happen if one of them died? Would the UK even recognise it? And then when it got terribly late the worry of ‘why does it even matter to me’ buried itself into every crevice of his mind, asking himself again and again without a break to tell him he enjoyed his marriage to Marlene while it lasted. The only thing that gave him the ability to just roll onto his side and nod off was the warm press of James’ jolly, old body stretched against him and tucking themselves into each other's nooks and crannies to the point that Niki’s mind went from a buzzing ball of stress to fuzzy numbness that came solely after the extreme bouts of anxiety that had been plaguing him as of late, then, and only then did his body allow him to final fall into a fitful sleep.

 

James had left the house that Thursday for Spain and Niki had been on edge ever since. Awaiting the verdict in Denmark up until that point hadn’t been too tricky, James was rather to adept at distracting Niki from even the slightest inconvenience he caught wind of coming from the courts. More than once he’d run from the kitchen when he found James sat at the kitchen table with The Guardian spread wide around his morning toast. Now he was gone the things piled up below the postbox and he couldn’t do anything about it, refusing to go outside since they’d started to gather against the door and just covering his eyes every time he had to turn the corner up to the staircase and avoiding any sort of headline that might set his blood pressure going again.

 

Before he’d left, and James hadn’t told his darling betrothed this, but he’d gone out to Saville Row and got himself all measured and prepared for what he was seeing as the inevitable. The suit now laying across his suitcase in a satin bag in the Seville Airport, 3 of the chaps from BBC staring it down like it made them sick and Mansell effectively avoiding his gaze when his intentions for that suit became all too clear. The only affirmation he really received being Ayrton clapping him on the back as he walked through the doors of the hotel, grinning at him and saying, “I wish Niki some bloody good luck!” before he was rushed away by an already irritable Alain. That had been upon arrival and really as the days got on and the tensions over the Championship continued to rise, the attention paid to James'  _ maybe/perhaps  _ marriage seemed to simmer when Sunday came on the 1st of October.

 

Back home, by comparison, Niki could only wish for such high spirits. Marlene had called him and he hadn’t thought to ignore it, picking up and hearing her giggle down the line about how terribly  _ excited  _ Rev. Sørensen was to conduct the ceremony, and he wasn’t even given a chance to pretend it was the dog that had knocked the phone off the receiver, he was trapped in conversation with the blasted woman who was grinning and joyfully planning  _ his  _ wedding through the phone. Like she knew something he didn’t. Niki had groaned and grunted through the whole procedure of it before she finally quietened and delivered the final blow, “It’s out, you know.”

 

And Niki’s heart had sunk, he’d woken up late after not getting a wink of sleep in the bed without James’ aggravating, never-diagnosed ADHD self trying his very best to get him to stop doing the very objective of laying down in bed. Wasn’t important how irritating Niki found him when he was gone because all he wanted was to have him back. 

 

Turning and wrapped himself up in the phone cord in the process to look at the clock meant he came to the harrowing realisation that it was actually 3 in the afternoon, meaning it was 4 in Spain and the race was most probably over. And, well, “Niki? Nik? You alright, schnucki?” He realised then that she’d probably said, probably told him what had happened while he’d been in his little trance, “Nik, you’re scaring me?”

 

“Thank you, Marlene.” And so he unwrapped himself of the cord and slammed the receiver down. Later, he’d call Marlene and apologise but in that very moment the only focus in his mind was rushing to the dusting TV set and fiddled with the remote to try and get CNN turned on, leaning up against the box like he was a kid again watching the ridiculous toy adverts on his black and white TV and awaiting the international report. There were reports on whatever shite Bush was up to, the banner running across the bottom of the screen telling him about the result of the recently ended race. If the race was over, why hadn’t James called him? Why hadn’t he listened to Marlene when she was trying to help him?  _ Why  _ was CNN keeping the truth from him? 

 

He felt like he was about to have a complete psychotic break with all the questions left unanswered wrapping themselves around his brain like elastic bands about to burst a watermelon. 

 

And then he blamed James for that similie entering his mind without his having anything to do with it. 

 

And with this train of thought he almost missed the slight grimace of the men on the TV before him as he said, “And, finally, Denmark has made a landmark decision today to enact a law allowing same-sex couples to obtain a civil partnership.” and that was it. Nothing else was said on the matter and the news cycle circled around to start up again where it had begun while Niki rested back on his heels, head falling into his hands and breathing as deeply as he could lest he stop altogether. 

 

The phone was ringing in the background, it was obnoxious and aggressive in his ears. His heart felt like it was about to give out, his legs couldn’t handle his weight and so he dragged himself over to the phone table with hands to grab the phone on it's final ring. 

 

“NikNak?”

 

He didn’t have the strength to respond in that moment, the blood rushing through his ears and the sound of his heartbeat feeling like a gong every time it thumped  _ alive. _

 

“Niki, darling?”

 

His breathing was obviously enough to let James know he was there, that he’d heard.

 

“Darling, I’d think this was a horror film if not for the contextual clues.”

 

“ _ James.” _

 

“Oh, darling, bless you.”

 

“James, James, James,  _ James _ ,”

 

“Go, go get on the plane, my love. Please.” There was the sound of cheering in the background that seemed to bring Niki back to planet Earth, the sound of his friends goading on his  _ fiance  _ all those miles away, the realisation that all he had to do now - after all these years of wearing that bleeding ring, letting that ring sit alone on his hand - was go upstairs, grab his suit, call for his plane to be brought to the hanger and go. 

 

“O-” James laughed and it sounded like doves, like the singing of sirens, like his heart soaring, “Oh-kay, ok. Ok, James.”

 

The smile was gone from his voice momentarily and he was suddenly serious, voice slightly wet and far more emotional than Niki would expect, “We’re going to be married.”

 

“We are?” Niki wasn’t so sure.

 

“We are, my love.”

 

“OK.”


End file.
